


End Of The F***ing World

by ZarryGrab



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Bottom Harry Styles, Inspired by The End of The Fucking World, M/M, Top Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarryGrab/pseuds/ZarryGrab
Summary: inspired by the netflix show of the same name, season one.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

ZAYN

Hey. I'm Zayn. And I'm pretty sure I'm a psychopath.

I was six when I found out I had no sense of humor. I didn't find anything funny, I never as much cracked a smile. Nothing was amusing to me.

My dad's a dick. Don't know why the fuck he's always laughing at his own jokes and trying to make small talk with me. It's weird. Sometimes I want to punch him in the face, the urge is strong and just keeps getting stronger.

When I turned eight, my dad bought a deep fryer that he saw on an American shopping channel... I stuck my hand in it while it was piping hot with oil. Why? Cause I wanted to feel something.

It stung at first but I got over it. Not exactly the buzz I was hoping for. Just left me with a fucked up left hand. Hooray.

When I turned ten, I started collecting road kill. But that got boring quick. So I started hunting small animals so I could dissect then. I kept every single body.

I'm sixteen now. Hunting small animals has gotten boring. School was beneath me, but it was the perfect place for observation and selection. Like I said before, I had gotten tired of killing small animals. What perfect place to look for something bigger to kill, then school?

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a muffled voice, taking my headphones off to pay attention to the curly haired brunette standing in front of me. Or rather, in front of the table I was having my lunch at. Alone might I add.

I never liked the company of other people. I didn't understand how people could enjoy it.

"I've seen you skating. You're pretty shite." Harry sassed, his voice raspy and his delivery slow.

Harry was new. He had started that term.

"Okay." I muttered.

He could be interesting to kill.

By the end of the day, I was sat on the bench outside of school. Devising a plan on how I'd eventually kill the boy.

"Are you waiting for me?" He asked.

So I pretended to fall in love with him.

I nod.

He wasted no time to sit next to me, his lips immediately crashing into mine. I froze as he did all the work, his hand taking my own and guiding it to one of his pecs.

It was odd. I've never been in this position before.

"What happened to your hand?" He asked, noticing my quite off-putting left hand.

"Shut up."


	2. Chapter 2

HARRY

Sometimes, there are times where I need to lay down. It somehow pulls me out of reality, y'know? To just relax... Breathe. Take in my surroundings and find the little details. When I see blue, yellow... Green. It sucks me in, makes me feel like I'm melting. The feeling's liberating in a way, I feel... Innocent.

Like a dog... A child.

An alien perhaps. Or a baby.

Life's shite. Correction, my life is shite. I live in a pretty wealthy neighborhood with my mum and her dick of a husband. My step dad is the worst.

He told me my hair made me look like a woman. I told him to suck my dick. I liked my hair, I could pull it off better than he ever could.

My mother, of course, pretended not to hear.

My mother's delusional as fuck, she used to be nice before she met my step father. She thinks she lives this perfect life with a perfect second husband and family, in the perfect neighborhood. The only thing perfect thing about her life now were the twins she had with my step dad.

I didn't hate them. Their heads smelt nice.

My actual dad left when I was around eight, he felt like he didn't belong. I don't blame him, if anything, I feel the same way.

I should be mad about him leaving anyway though, right? Nope. He's sent me cards for my birthday every single year, from eleven to seventeen. It was nice to know someone actually cared about me.

I never liked the people in my high school, everyone just wreaked of fakeness. I never trusted people who could fit in anywhere.

"Did you just text me?" I ask the person in front of me.

They shrugged.

"It's free."

I huffed, abruptly getting out of my seat and smashing my phone to the ground.

Good riddance! I hated that thing anyway.

I flashed them a smile before I walked away, spotting a boy sitting alone. I decided to approach him.

"Hey!"

Zayn fumbled to take his headphones off so he could hear me.

"I've seen you skating-"

I haven't.

"You're pretty shite." I add.

"Okay." He mutters.

He's weird. But maybe he was my ticket out of this.

I'm not saying the answer... But maybe he was?

I found him outside after school sitting out on the bench. We snogged, had him grab my tit. Nothing extreme.

"I haven't got a phone." I shrug, the two of us walking to his flat.

"Okay."

"I smashed it."

"Okay." He repeats.

"Like, on purpose."

"Okay."

Was that all he could say?

"I haven't got a phone either."

"Yeah?" I reply.

"Yeah. I hate them."

I notice him hesitate slightly, I assume he was to say something else.

"I know people in love go on dates... Do you want to go on a date with me?" He asks.

I was correct.

I nod, turning my gaze forward to focus on my direction.

We went to a diner that week, a couple days after our talk. He sat across from me, menus in our hands. A waitress soon approaches us.

"Hi, what can get for you two today?" She asks all giddy.

Fuck, somebody shoot me in the face.

"You should probably take this bit off, 'The UK's greatest dining experience.'. I don't see a Michelin Star under your belt." I reply.

For some reason, their self-proclaimed title just really bothered me.

"Eh, yes... Can I take your order now, lad?" She asks me.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll have a banana split with some extra cherries, a hot chocolate, and an extra fucking spoon." I reply.

"Pardon?" She asks.

"Did I stutter, bitch? The spoon's for him." I sassed.

She gasps, her jaw hanging pretty low.

What that mouth do, cunt.

"I'm sorry, but you can't use language like that in here or I'll have to get the manager."

I roll my eyes. 

Fuck this. This was gonna take too long. Fucking snowflake.

"Fine, I'm sorry." I scoff.

"I'll have a banana split with extra cherries, I want that shoved up your arse. And a piping hot chocolate to go down your manager's throat. Fuck you." I add.

I grab my jacket before climbing out of my booth, storming out of the establishment. It didn't take long for Zayn to catch up.

"Sorry." I apologize sincerely this time.

"It's okay."

I had my issues, I know.


End file.
